Forgetting
by Nynayve
Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione, alone in their tent, reaffirm their friendship, and what they mean to each other in these trying times.Rated M for a reason! Threesome, mild, very mild, m/m.


A/N: For Jess, who gives me ideas, and who pushes me to test my own limits. Happy Birthday, love!

EDIT: Fixing a few things. Thank you, Lana, for helping me with this one!

First really, truly Canon-ish thing I have written, please review, tell me what you think.

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** Forgetting**

The night started as normal -and dull- as any other. Ron had taken the first watch, cheerfully quipping that it was the least he could do after all the doubling up his friends had done. Ron had been doing that for weeks, now; after he and Hermione had made up and they resumed their careful friendship, Ron tended to make jokes about what a fool he had been.

It annoyed Harry, but Hermione called it cute. Harry was once again embroiled in thought about the Deathly Hallows, Hermione could see the familiar set of his eyebrows as he puzzled a mystery. Sighing, she returned to her copy of '_Tales of Beedle the Bard_' in an effort to prove -or disprove- his theory.

Finally giving up, Hermione closed the book and set about making hot cocoa in the small kitchen. They were staying north, in secluded regions of Scotland yet well away from Hogwarts. It was colder here, but there were less people, and after last weeks disastrous meeting with Xeno Lovegood, people were bad.

Memories of that night, and of so many other nights in their past, sent chills down her spine. So many nights when she worried, cried herself to sleep, terrified she would wake up and that would be their last day together. More memories flooded her mind, of kisses and caresses as they comforted each other after each terror. At first, only Harry, when Ron was in the Hospital Wing 6th year. But, after Albus Dumbledore's death, the three became closer than ever, in ways that still surprised Hermione.

Hearing shifting behind her, she turned to see Harry laying belly down on the floor in front of the jar of blue-bell flames. Hoping he wasn't reading '_The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_' again, she moved closer to him, carrying a tray of steaming mugs.

"Harry?"

The black haired boy looked up, pushing his glasses back into place; they had fallen as he perused the item in front of him..

"Just making sure... never mind. What are you reading?" Her friend blushed, causing her to nudge him with her foot. "Alright Potter, what is it?" Hermione set the tray of cocoa on the small table next to them, and knelt beside Harry.

"It's nothing, 'Mione..." Harry tried to hide the book from her, but she snatched it out of his hands. Flipping it over, she gasped, then looked for the book mark, finding it somewhere near the end of the book. Meeting Harry's eyes, clutching the book to her chest, she swore she felt tears threatening to fall.

"You're... you're reading 'Hogwarts, a History'?"

"Er... yeah. Well, you see, I got tired of reading 'Life and Lies' and we didn't really bring anythi- Oomph!" His words were cut off as Hermione launched herself at him, the book falling from her arms to lie forgotten next to the jar of flame. Their lips met in a searing kiss, which broke as Hermione, carried by her leap, rolled right off of Harry. Laughing, the two sat up, blushing.

"Oi, what are you two doing in there?" Ron poked his head into the tent, eying his two best friends.

"Hermione was making fun of me, for reading 'Hogwarts, a History'. Should I tell her that-"

"OI!" Ron pushed his way into the tent, casually flicking his wand to seal the flap against the cold. "You promised!"

"What is it, Ron?" Hermione looked between the boys -men, she thought with a sigh- in confusion.

"Go on, Ron, tell her," the bespectacled boy urged.

"I uh... I read 'Hogwarts, a History' a few days ago. We wanted to surprise you, that we had actually read it for ourselves," Ron murmured, not meeting the girls eyes.

"Oh Ronald..." Hermione stood, and reached for him, pulling him closer to her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she whispered into his ear, "What was the occasion, if I may ask?"

"Well, you see, you were reading it the first time Harry and I really noticed you, the first time we wanted you as more than our know-it-all best friend." Ron nuzzled her ear, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her sweet pea and violet shampoo. He was laying kisses against her neck when he met Harry's eyes. The emerald orbs blazed with lust. Harry stood, eased himself into their embrace, behind Hermione, wrapping his arms about her body and much of Ron's.

Hermione felt so safe, between these boys of hers. They would never hurt her, nor would they let her be hurt. Not without swift revenge, she amended. Leaning back into Harry's body, she pressed her lips to Ron's. This dance was new, yet familiar. Six years of friendship, love and trust, yet kissing them was so new, so wonderful.

Their hands were light on her back and sides, working together to lift her shirt, peeling it up her body. Harry dropped it at their feet, hands ghosting over the curves of her back, splaying around her hips. Ron had her lips in a passionate kiss, his hands caressing her shoulders, pulling her closer as she wrapped her fingers into his ginger hair.

Harry, feeling a bit neglected, tugged her hips, grinding himself into her, tracing kisses down her neck, over her upper back. Growling, he turned her, forcing her away from Ron; before she could protest the change, he kissed her deeply, gently pushing his way into her mouth. Hermione could feel Ron behind her, pressed tightly against her body as he ghosted fingers up and down her spine.

Harry's kiss had her head spinning. Ron's touch felt like electricity over her body. Vaguely she could feel him fumbling with her bra clasp, and broke the intoxicating kiss with Harry to remove the annoying garment. As one, in a move reminiscent of the Weasley twins, the boys hit their knees, and latched on to her nipples. Throwing her head back, she could do nothing but grasp their heads as the only stable thing in the world. She revised this thought as she felt hands skimming up her denim clad thighs.

Ron seemed to realize this at the same time as she. He pulled back, and unbuttoned her jeans, kissing her stomach as he peeled them down her body. Harry backed off as well, so pull the home made sweater over his head, and kick off his shoes. Hermione, in nothing but a simple pair of panties, watched them undress with a smirk to make Malfoy proud. These were her boys. Men.

Harry, a quicker stripper than Ron after years in the Quidditch locker rooms, pulled Hermione against his body, peppering her face and neck with kisses as he hands wandered over her body. He backed her up, leading her closer to the jar of flames and relative warmth. As she lowered herself to the ground, Ron was there, summoning a pillow for her head. Giggling at his consideration, she started to protest, but quickly forgot why as the boys once again attached themselves to her breasts.

It was Harry's hand that ran a lazy trail up her thigh, gently pushing her legs apart to trace faint circles over her cloth covered slit. Fighting to keep her head above water, Hermione reached down the boys' bodies to grasp their members. Barely within range, she could do little more than run her hands over the silken heads, but it was enough to cause them both to gasp.

Ron sat up, and scooted back. Tossing her a teasing grin, he knelt between her legs, nudging Harry out of the way. The black hair boy leaned into Ron for a moment, pressing their lips together in a kiss that made Hermione's body clench and her panties to dampen. Groaning, she sat up a bit, wrapped her hand more firmly around Harry, and tugged, causing him to break the kiss and look to her.

"I want to taste, Harry," she whispered. He understood, and leaned over to kiss her gently, letting her taste Ron on his lips. Harry kissed his way down her body, giving teasing flicks of his tongue to her nipples. Shoving Ron a bit, the two boys knelt together between her legs, contemplating the sight before them. She looked beautiful by the light of Blue-bell flames, or anytime, really. Her hair cascaded across the pillow, no longer as bushy as when she was a child. Her brown eyes burned with depth and knowledge the boys could never understand, and for that, they loved her all the more.

Together, in a well practiced movement, Harry and Ron leaned over her, to kiss, lick and nibble her stomach, hips and thighs. Pulling her panties down by inches, they ghosted over her mound, faces pressed together so they could both fit. Leaning back to fully remove her underwear, they didn't give her enough time to collect her head before forcing her legs wide, and resuming the teasing kisses between her thighs.

The first lick, in tandem, sent her reaching for something solid to grab. Finding nothing but the pillow, she yanked it out from under her head and clutched it to her heaving breasts. Liking this reaction, the boys repeated it, licking long lines together. They had her writhing and begging withing moments, but they didn't abandon the slow methodical rythem of their tongues until she came undone, screaming wordlessly, her body shaking.

Calming her with caresses, the boys had an unspoken conversation. Hermione always responded with fierce passion after oral (especially by the two of them) so it was never a matter of who went first, but who went where. They, however, hadn't been her friend all these years for nothing, and they had learned a few things from the clever witch. After only a couple minutes, she sat up, ruffled her hair in a cute sort of way, and cocked her head, as if to say, "Well? Now what?"

Ron stood, pulling her up with him, then lifted her into his arms. Harry was already heading to the bedroom, the bunk beds long since turned into a king sized bed for them to share. Harry climbed onto the bed, leaned against the headboard, opening his arms for Hermione to climb into. Kissing her, letting her taste herself on his lips, always made her purr for him, sure enough, when they broke apart, she gave a rumbling deep in her throat. He had no idea how she did it, but the sound made his member twitch.

Turning her in his arms, she lay down, her head resting on his thighs. Gritting his teeth as her hair brushed over him, he held her arms over her head. Ron was there, kissing him, distracting him from the woman in his lap. Then he was gone, kissing Hermione, running hands over her body. They knew she would be wet for them, but she would be oh so tight, and she loved for the first thing she felt to be Ron, thicker than Harry, pushing into her. She gave a gasp followed by a moan, throwing her head back as Ron thrust in to her in one movement.

"Merlin, Hermione, I love this feeling," he grunted, stilling before he lost his control. She laughed, her body contracting around Ron. Cursing, he laid his head against her neck, willing his body to hang on just a bit longer. When he was sure he could move without exploding, he withdrew, tantalizing close to leaving her body, before picking up a rhythm that was deep and slow.

Hermione was sure this was torture. A wonderful mix of Heaven, between men she loves, and Hell, the slow, maddening pace. But this was Ron's style, he made love to her, the both did, until she forced them to lose control. She turned her head, rubbing her cheek against the length of Harry's cock. She heard his hissing intake of breath, but found she didn't have the control to smirk. Ron groaned, but didn't speed up.

"Not this time, 'Mione," he whispered in to her ear. He kept his maddeningly slow pace until she was whimpering, thoughts of teasing Harry long forgotten. Ron gritted his teeth, begging his body to wait for her, blessing her when she screamed his name, desperately trying to free her hands to rake nails across skin. Harry held her down, his eyes hungrily taking in his friends bodies as Ron collapsed over Hermione.

Harry, impatient, wiggled out from under his friends, rolled Ron off of Hermione, and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Standing, he thrust into her without preamble, knowing he couldn't last. Hermione screamed, eyes snapping open. Fearing he had hurt her, Harry stopped.

"MOVE, Harry! Fuck me, now!" Hermione growled, levering herself up onto her elbows. Hermione was rarely vulgar, and Harry took her at her word, lunging into her with a power and speed that surprised even him. Within seconds, the two were panting for air, crying out as their climax overtook them.

Withdrawing, Harry climbed back on the bed, pulling Hermione between himself and Ron. He leaned close and whispered to her, "I'm so sorry, 'Mione, I'm so sorry I hurt you," repeating the murmur over and over.

She looked at him, put her finger to his lips, and deadpanned, "That was fucking amazing."

Ron gave her a wide eyed look at the brunettes use of language. Hermione, seeing the look from the corner of her eye, laughed. "Well, it was! Harry, love, you didn't hurt me. It was amazing, perfect for the moment." She paused, and considered. "You two will be the death of me, I'm already sore. No, Harry, I'm not hurt, it was wonderful, stop it."

The three snuggled into bed, forgetting about dangerous Death Eaters, mad, snake-like men, Hallows or Horcruxes as the drifted off to sleep. While they were in each others arms, nothing else mattered but the love and friendship they shared. That alone, would keep them together forever.


End file.
